


Friday the Flirteenth

by ProtoChan



Category: RWBY
Genre: Banter, Bonding, Coffee, Comfort, Flirting, Funny, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Semblance (RWBY), Talking, chilling, fair game, fairgameweek2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoChan/pseuds/ProtoChan
Summary: Qrow likes to avoid others on Friday the Thirteenth. He claims he’s doing it for everyone else’s sake, and that they’re better off if he spends the day alone in his room. Clover’s not having any of his self-loathing bullshit -- not today, and not ever, if he has anything to say about it.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 68





	Friday the Flirteenth

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: You ever come up with an AMAZING pun and then find a way to write a fic around that? Well, that’s happened here! I’ve wanted to release this for SO long, and finally, I can...at least release part 1! Yeah, illnesses have made this a hard fic to finish, but fortunately, I have enough here to release a respectable first chapter to what will hopefully be a respectable MC! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> BIG thanks to my beta, @skybird13. Sky, you’re the best, and I hope you know that. Coordinating with you with my works makes me feel so confident in them. I want you to know more than anything how much I value your help and support, not just in this fic, but in everything, and I hope we’re friends for a long time to come!!!!

Qrow Branwen liked peanuts. 

They were cheap, could be found just about anywhere in Remnant, had a pleasantly salty taste, and served as the perfect snack on days where he had no intention of stepping so much as a toe outside of his room.

So, in anticipation for Friday the Thirteenth, Qrow bought a LOT of peanuts.

When one had a semblance like his, a day dedicated to the very concept of bad luck was one that couldn’t be dismissed without some burden on their conscience. In fact, Friday the Thirteenth more than most any other day put extra responsibilities upon Qrow’s shoulders -- a responsibility to not cause any more trouble than necessary, a responsibility to stay away from anyone who he might accidentally harm, and a responsibility to keep the other two responsibilities secret from all who might try to intervene on his behalf.

And, just as he usually did, Qrow accepted those responsibilities and kept himself at a distance from all.

Fourteen hours. He just had to stay in his room alone for fourteen hours. 

He’d lasted a lot longer on his own many times before.

It wasn’t that big of a problem, at least not in previous years. Thanks to a lifetime’s worth of practice, Qrow knew the most secluded spots in all of Remnant to hide in on occasions like this, and the fastest routes to get to them from pretty much anywhere. And with no one but enemies on his trail, there was little risk that the day provided to anyone, or at least, anyone who didn’t deserve it.

But things weren’t so simple this year.

This year, he had his nieces and a gaggle of kids as travelling companions.

This year, he resided in an Atlesian military base, one that restricted access to any type of real seclusion further than the privacy of his own room.

This year, he despised the man he had formerly dedicated his life to.

This year, things were complicated, and his semblance always loved running amok when things were complicated.

But, as he reminded himself, some of those complications ended up turning into triumphs.

Sure, it was the first year without the hope Ozpin provided. But it was also the first year where Qrow had a different kind of hope to keep him going. It was a kind of hope that made itself tangible through his nieces’ determination, his own efforts to fight off the allure of alcohol, and as of late, an encouraging smile and a flirty wink from a kind man with a semblance that seemingly counteracted his own…

Clover…

Clover...

Well, in a life of complications, Clover stood out as one of the biggest he’d ever faced. His very presence complicated everything in Qrow’s headspace all over again.

Still, that wasn’t a bad thing.

At least, Qrow was pretty sure it wasn’t.

Clover...Clover was really something else…

If someone were to ask Qrow to describe Clover after their disastrous first meeting, he’d have more than a couple of choice words for them -- cocky, pedantic, narcissistic. But things changed once they started working together, and as he learned more about Clover, while all of those descriptors were still true, the words themselves took on an entirely new shape for Qrow. What was cockiness just days before was now self assuredness, what was pedantic was revealed to really be caution on behalf of those he worked with and for, and what was narcissistic was actually a confidence that he created for himself, a confidence based in real pride in who he was and how that pride amounted to far more than just his semblance.

Additionally, a new word came to mind, too -- warm. It was a genuine warmth that flowed through each and every one of Clover’s words, and accompanying that warmth was a trust in those fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of them. It was hard not to return that trust in kind with some of his own, and for the first time in a while, Qrow felt no need to resist doing just that. 

It surprised Qrow sometimes just how much he had already divulged to Clover. Part of the reason for that came out of a desire to put his best foot forward for their assigned partnership. Part of it was a warning in the interest of Clover’s safety. But some things couldn’t be explained away so easily, and could only be attributed to a real sense of trust.

Frankly, it was nice having something like that again with someone. 

And it wasn’t even just Clover’s personality that painted the portrait that was Clover Ebi. Looking at Clover was like looking at a cloudless sky on a spring day. He was bright, bold -- brilliant, even. His smile was caked in charm -- true charm -- and his brow was shaped with a resolve to keep promises Qrow knew he probably could, promises he likely made to himself, Ironwood, and his country. 

Maybe there was even a promise to Qrow somewhere in that mix. 

No -- there was no maybe. He was sure there was.

But there was a coolness in Clover’s being too, both in his demeanor and his personality. There was an untold story in his eyes, one uncared for by his teammates, and only allowed to exist through fleeting expressions here and there during moments where he let his guard fall down. And that same jaw that held his charm like a jug held water held tension there too, as if there was an entire book’s worth of things he wanted to say, but for whatever reason didn’t. It was enough to make anyone who saw those things pretty curious about what hidden depths might be underneath that veil of job-dictated professionalism.

Qrow spent far more time thinking about all that he had left to uncover about Clover than he would ever admit.

After all, there was a lot to ask about what went on in that man’s mind, especially when it led him to befriend him, of all people.

But that wink Clover gave him on their first mission together made Qrow wonder if befriending him was all Clover wanted to do.

And regardless of how he felt in return, Qrow had to wonder whether or not he should try to stop him before Clover jumped further down the rabbit hole that was his life.

Qrow was bad news.

Then again, just about everything having to do with Clover was good news, and perhaps the exact thing that rabbit hole of his could use in its life was a lucky rabbit’s foot to help fill it up.

Wow...that was sappy.

Even on his worst days, Clover seemed able to bring out a little bit of sappiness in him. Go figure.

But, whatever fate had in store for him and Clover could wait to be further unearthed until tomorrow. Hell, he might even have time to muse on what that might be today, because for the next fourteen hours, it would be just himself, his room, and an overabundance of peanuts fighting against the slowly whiling hours of time.

Jeez...greater good or not, even Qrow could admit just how sad that was...

Maybe his abandonment of his morning coffee would at least grant him a nap and make the day go by faster…

He’d certainly prefer it that way.

Before he could even attempt to take advantage of his coffee’s absence, two knocks hit his door.

Perhaps it was foolish to think no one would bother him today -- after all, in Atlas, there was always something going on -- but he had a day off of Huntsmen duties while most everyone else he knew didn’t. He’d hoped against hope that meant that he’d be left in peace for the day.

Apparently, it didn’t.

Just his luck…

“Hello?” Qrow called out, reluctantly standing up.

“Qrow?”

Immediately, he recognized the voice, the voice that had burned itself into his memory within a matter of weeks and now had a summer cottage nestled somewhere between his brain and heart.

And there he was, letting that sappiness invade his thoughts again…

Of course the one person responsible for inspiring it was the one visiting him on the absolute worst day to do so.

Qrow approached and opened the door.

Just as he suspected, it was Clover who stood on the other side, as chipper as ever. After willing himself to hold back a grimace at the unexpectedness of his or anyone’s visit, Qrow noticed two cups of coffee in his hands. 

“You missed your morning cup,” Clover stated, offering one of the ones in his hand to Qrow. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Despite himself and everything the day represented for him, Qrow let down his guard ever so slightly at the awkward way Clover explained himself. He wasn’t thrilled about someone showing up on his doorstep, but that’s not to say it wasn’t nice to see a friendly face at all, especially in the face of the rest of his sure-to-be lonely day.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the cup with a light smile he allowed to surface.

“So,” Clover said, elongating the vowel for a few seconds as he expectantly stared at Qrow.

“So?” Qrow repeated, matching Clover’s delivery and adding in a bit of confusion. 

“IS everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Qrow said, shrugging.

Clover quirked his brow. He didn’t look convinced, and unwilling to give Qrow so much as the chance to rectify that. 

“It’s not, though, is it?”

Qrow fought the urge to bit his cheek, but paid the cost of that with a tremor in his voice.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You not coming down for coffee is strange on its own,” Clover elaborated, “but you haven’t even left your room and it’s nearly ten. Usually, even on your lazy days, you’re out and about by half past eight, at the latest.”

“So I slept in a bit,” Qrow defended, shrugging in what he hoped would be a casual enough manner. “What’s the big deal?”

“It wouldn’t be a big deal at all if it wasn’t Friday the Thirteenth.”

Qrow blinked, flustered even more so than when Clover had started pressing him. Clover merely looked at him expectantly. 

How did he-?

Sure, Clover had a calendar, but why would he-?

Damnit, Clover...

“It’s a day for bad luck,” Qrow explained, his mood dark out of instinct more than malice. “Given my semblance --”

“It’s a day for superstitions,” Clover insisted.

“You seem to like yours just fine.” Qrow made a circle with his finger that encompassed the various lucky charms on Clover’s outfit.

Clover smiled as if he saw the rebuttal coming from a mile away.

“These are just here to make the uniform pop,” he said, laughter bubbling underneath him, as if Qrow had just walked into a trap. “And judging by how you clearly seemed to take notice of them, it looks like they’ve done their jobs quite nicely.” 

Just as he finished speaking, Clover winked right at Qrow, something that was very quickly becoming a habit of his when they were around each other. Fria must’ve imbued that wink with some of her magic or something because it always felt just a bit overpowering.

Qrow made a noise that would’ve sounded more at home in his bird form than the form that actually delivered it.

“Okay, but even still,” Qrow said, quickly pushing to make Clover forget about that sound, “you know what kind of things are out there in this world. Magic exists, fairy tale maidens and Grimm are running amok -- who's to say something like Friday the Thirteenth isn’t real, too? What reason do I have to trust that my semblance won’t go haywire on a day devoted to it?”

“If you stay in your room,” Clover countered, just as quickly as Qrow had with him, “you’re making things worse for yourself. Come on,” he said, his tone brightening alongside a fresh, new smile. “We can go get an early lunch. There’s a fantastic sushi restaurant just on the outskirts of the academy that you’ll love. Their rolls put the ‘ah’ in ‘tuna.’”

Now it was Qrow’s turn to quirk his brow. “And if I leave my room, I’ll risk making things worse for everyone else. I’m not leaving. Maybe we can go to that restaurant tomorrow.”

Qrow expected Clover to keep pushing back with yet another comment, but instead, he just took a patient, deep breath.

He then shrugged.

“And I was so excited to take you there, too,” Clover lamented. “But, oh well. Have it your way, then.”

Without giving Qrow so much as a second to respond, Clover gently pushed him to the side, walked inside his room, and sat down on one of the chairs across from his bed. Qrow was stuck somewhere between being utterly stunned by the action, and not at all. After all, this was pretty standard Clover Ebi behavior in that it was utterly unpredictable.

That’s not to say it was necessarily welcome -- or that Qrow would admit it even if it was.

And this morning, he was feeling particularly stubborn in his quest for solitude.

“That wasn’t an invitation to join me,” Qrow snipped.

Clover simply lounged back into the plush chair, easing his knees as his legs spread forward. “Well, if you won’t come out with me, then I’ll simply have to come in with you.” He then pulled something out of his pocket, something that instantly brought another grimace to Qrow’s face, all the while smiling. 

“Up for some cards?”

Qrow groaned.

He knew it when he woke up, and he was even more sure of it now: This was gonna be a long, long fourteen hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to leave a little review, I certainly wouldn't mind, but if not, then all the same, have a great day!


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